Truth Or Dare
by StarWarrior72
Summary: In which Luke does something ridiculously stupid, which works out well for his spirit, but adds a few more scars to his body. (What else is new?)


When the ship had originally crashed on Vjun, Vader had paid it no mind. After all, he'd had just long enough to see, as it went down, that it was a rebel ship. He had been too tired, after a string of Rebel raids, to link it to his son's sudden cry of pain. And as the week had passed, he had not considered a potential connection. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but his son's pain wasn't affecting him as it once had. It was simply too frequent. In fact, Vader had a strong suspicion that the boy managed to hurt himself even when he wasn't on missions.

So Vader had forgotten the crashed X-wing.

But as he saw a sudden spurt of blue flame across the barren surface of the planet, it flicked to the surface of his consciousness for a miniscule moment, and was gone again before he could truly remember what it was.

He turned off his lightsaber, and deactivated the battle droids, walking over to the window he'd seen the spurt from. And as he watched, it came again. Every few seconds, the blue fire sprang to life, apparently just above the planet's surface.

He watched, entranced, as it neared. The spurts of flame were coming less frequently, and weaker, but at last he recognised their source.

_Artoo!_

And then, in an automatically linked thought, _Luke! _The memory of the crashed snub fighter returned to him.

He sped from the training room, making for a speeder. As he took off, racing in the direction he had last seen the blue flares, he realized that they had stopped. He reached out, looking for the little droid, and at last saw it, sitting on its treads, apparently deactivated.

He guided his speeder towards it, and stopped. He used the Force to take the droid into the speeder, and to plug it in to charge. Slowly, weakly, Artoo's 'eye' lit up. As he seemed to recognise Vader, he began letting out a long string of beeps, so quickly it was hard for even Vader to follow.

"Co-ordinates, Artoo." He commanded.

The little droid beeped, and Vader adjusted his course.

As the droid began trying to explain himself again, Vader stopped him. "Luke will explain this."

Artoo beeped uncertainly.

"He owes me at least an explanation." Vader explained.

The droid trilled.

Vader nodded, "De-activate. Luke will want to leave as soon as he can, I'm certain. It would be best for you to be charged."

The droid's light flickered out again.

As he neared the co-ordinates his old droid had given him, Vader felt his heart beating faster. He reached out in the Force, looking for his son's presence, but he felt nothing. _Luke?_

There was no response.

At last, he sighted the wreckage. The snub fighter was battered, lying on its side, the cockpit crushed.

_Luke!_

Vader kicked the speeder faster. The engine whined in protest, but the speeder accelerated. Vader pulled the ship to a halt beside the wreck. He leapt out, running the last few feet, forcing the cockpit open.

As he gazed into the darkness of the interior, he saw his son's hand reaching towards him. He physically took the transparisteel cover and yanked it open farther. His son's pain suddenly galloped through the Force to him.

The child himself lay on his side in the pilot's seat. When the ship had crashed, one side of the cockpit had been crushed, apparently catching Luke's leg. His helmet had either slipped from his head, or the boy had removed it. His face and hair were soaked with sweat, and he looked ill.

"Luke?"

The boy's eyelashes fluttered open. "Father?"

"Why were you hiding yourself?" Vader asked. He knew that in the situation, he should have been asking if Luke was all right, if only for reasons of a standard. He could sense that the boy would survive. And so, the most pressing question in his mind was, _Why didn't you call for me to help you?_

"I was afraid." Luke answered quietly. He moaned as he tried to move towards his father.

Vader pushed aside a wish to tell his son not to be ridiculous, and instead climbed farther into the cockpit. He took his son's torso in his lap, holding the boy carefully. And as he did so, he felt the need to go through the motions he associated with parents, unnecessary though they were.

"Will you be all right?" He asked, as softly as the vocabulator would allow.

Luke just moaned, and Vader felt his concern mounting.

"Have you eaten?"

"Just a little bit. Artoo made a little hole and pushed some stuff through before he went to get you. That's why you're here, right? Artoo made it, didn't he?"

"Yes, Child. I'm sorry, I should have come as soon as I saw the ship fall."

"I could've been anyone." Luke said. "It's okay."

"It is not."

"I was hiding, you said so yourself."

"You were not when you crashed."

Luke looked away from his father's mask. "I thought I was."

Vader's heart skipped a beat, afraid that he had embarrassed his son. He turned to business, and attempted to extract his son from the cockpit, moving him slightly.

Luke whimpered in pain.

Vader stopped instantly.

"How badly are you pinned?"

Luke grimaced and shook his head. "I don't know. I can't feel my leg at all."

Vader paused for a moment, trying to decide how to cope with this unwelcome turn of events.

The child in his arms let out a soft wail of despair. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" Vader asked, afraid that the child was seeing someone besides himself.

"That I can't feel my leg. It's bad, isn't it?" Luke whimpered.

"It might not be."

Luke started to cry softly, tears trickling down his cheeks. "I'm going to die here, aren't I?"

"No." Vader promised, stroking away a few tears. "You will not die."

Luke didn't seem to have heard him, crying all the harder.

Vader moved one hand from its resting place on Luke's back, reaching down around the boy's trapped leg. As the boy's pain sang through the Force, he moved back, and reached in again, using only the Force.

The collapsed hull was pressing Luke's leg against the seat, but Vader felt very little damage to the child's body. At the worst, his leg might be broken. Vader had feared the boy might have gangrene.

"Hold on to me, Luke."

Luke clung silently to his father's left arm, which Vader had wrapped around him in order to keep him upright.

Vader tried to force the cockpit to un-buckle, but the metal dimpled and groaned, making Vader fear that the ship would collapse on the rest of his son's body.

He stopped trying to loosen the trap and tried wiggling his son's body free again. In his free arm, the child yelped loudly, but Luke quickly cut off the sound. Vader stopped pulling, and looked down at his son's face.

The child looked frightened, tears were racing down his cheeks unrestrained, and he was biting his lower lip hard, as though to keep from crying out again. Vader brushed the tears away again.

"Hush, Luke. It will be all right." Vader said, as quietly and as kindly as he possibly could.

Luke sniffled, and nodded, releasing his hold on his father's glove for long enough to wipe one arm across his face.

"Good boy," Vader said approvingly, running one hand through his son's hair. "You're a good boy, Luke."

Luke sniffed again and smiled up at his father, "Thank you."

Vader ran his hand through the boy's hair once more before returning to his work.

Luke sensed what was about to happen, and clung tighter to Vader's arm.

As Vader began to try to move the hull away from his boy's leg, however, the metal groaned more ominously.

_That's not safe._ He thought, pulling his consciousness back.

He looked into the darkness around his son's crushed leg.

In his arms, Luke sniffled again, "Maybe it'd be best to just cut it off."

"What?" Vader asked, turning to his son in confusion.

"My leg," the boy explained. "Maybe it would be easiest to just cut it off."

Vader rolled his eyes, "I think I can spare the time to get you out of this in one piece."

But Luke had reminded Vader that he did have his lightsaber. He made one more futile attempt at pushing the metal away, but when it failed, he activated the blood red blade.

He felt his son shuffle against him and looked down. Luke had pressed his face against his father's chest, although the position it put him in must have been painful.

"For the Force's sake, Luke. I'm not going to cut off your leg."

Luke looked up slightly. "But what if it's the only way? You're not just going to leave me here, are you?"

"No. I'm going to cut the hull away from your leg. If you had all these wonderful ideas all along, why didn't you simply cut yourself free and come looking for me?"

"I told you, I was afraid. I didn't know how you'd react."

Vader squeezed his son gently instead of trying to think of a reply. Luke sighed softly, and rested his head on his father.

Vader carefully reached down into the darkness beyond Luke's leg. As much as he didn't want to let go of his son, he had to admit that he would never be able to reach if he didn't release the child. So he let Luke go, and slipped himself further into the little crevice, reaching further down towards the hull.

"This might hurt a bit. The metal will heat up a fair deal." He warned Luke.

The boy simply nodded.

Vader drove the blade into the hull and felt it pass through fairly easily. He supposed a good deal of the hull had been melted by Luke's decent into the atmosphere. As quickly as he possibly could, he swept the blade around Luke's leg, and threw the circle of hull plating to the ground outside the ship.

The child whimpered softly again, and Vader gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Is it bad?" Luke asked, clearly trying to sound brave.

"You will survive." Vader informed his son. In fact, the boy's leg had been torn open by something, presumably a piece of jagged hull. And from the odd direction it was pointing, Vader could only assume that his leg was broken.

"It's not going to heal, is it? Are they going to have to amputate?" The boy asked, sounding increasingly nervous.

"Look, and see for yourself," Vader replied, exasperated.

Slowly, the boy looked down at his leg. Vader smiled under his mask as the boy let out a long breath. "Oh, that's not so bad."

Vader shook his head. Luke freed himself from his father's arms, and tried to stand up. Instantly, he whimpered, and fell back against his father.

Vader lifted the boy in his arms.

"You don't have to carry me, Father. I can walk." Luke protested weakly.

"There is no need of that." Vader informed his son.

Luke didn't try to argue again, relaxing against his father's chest. Vader felt a thrill run through him at the thought that he was carrying his son, but he pushed it away, hoping that the boy hadn't sensed it.

He used the Force to move Artoo to the storage space behind the seats and rested his son in the passenger's seat. Luke slumped against the door, weak from his days trapped in the same position.

Vader walked around the speeder and got in. Luke made himself roll towards his father, and Vader took the child's left hand in his own.

He took off on the return trip to his castle, going slowly so as not to jostle his son around too much.

Luke's hand tightened around his whenever they hit a bump, and each time, Vader's heart leapt into his throat.

At last they reached the castle, and Vader had to pause for a moment to calm down enough to stand up straight. He had never guessed that his son's pain and fear would affect him quite this strongly!

He got out, walked around, and scooped his son up in his arms, turning Artoo on with a single, deft motion. The little droid's jets roared to life and he leapt out of the storage space, trundling after the two Skywalkers, beeping his concern for Luke.

Vader answered as best he could, until Luke interrupted him softly.

"What will happen to me now?"

"Child?" Vader questioned.

"What will happen to me now?" Luke repeated. "I can't get off the planet. I'm weak, and wounded. You've captured me. Technically, you should send me to prison, shouldn't you?"

"I do not intend to send you to prison in your current condition."

"So you will, eventually? You wouldn't even consider sending me back to the Alliance?"

"We will consider your irresponsible friends when you have healed somewhat."

"Irresponsible?"

"To let you get into this state, and not come looking for you!" Vader found himself snarling.

"Oh," Luke sighed. Was that happiness Vader sensed? He hadn't meant to make the boy happy. If anything, he had wanted Luke to jump to his friends' defence. But the boy seemed to have been comforted by his father's words, and Vader couldn't bring himself to take that from his son.

In his arms, the boy shivered. Vader hurried his pace until he reached the room he had prepared for his son. He rested the boy on the bed, and pulled the blankets up around him.

He turned from the exhausted child to search for a medkit, but the boy cried out softly.

"Don't leave me alone!"

Vader jumped slightly at the plea, and turned to look back at his son. The child was crying, and shaking frantically.

"Hush," he commanded. The boy shut up instantly, but his eyes still pleaded with his father not to leave. Vader returned to the bed, and sat down. He took Luke's hand, and held it gently.

"You need medical attention. How am I to bring it to you if won't let me leave?"

Luke clung to his father's glove. "I don't know, but I don't care. Don't leave me alone again; it was terrible all alone in my ship all week. I need to be with you now. Please don't leave me."

Vader sat beside his son, unmoving, trying to figure out a way around the problem at hand. On one hand, the boy certainly needed medical attention, on the other; he didn't want the boy to be frightened by being left alone. Suppose Luke decided to get out of bed and go looking for his father! The boy's leg couldn't take that kind of strain. Vader was reluctant to carry the boy as well, afraid that every time the boy's leg was moved, even slightly, was worsening his condition.

"Luke, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous," the boy maintained, "If you'd been trapped in a cockpit, with the side crushing your leg, all alone for a week, you'd be acting like this too."

Vader decided to skip over the truths that he had been alone in one way or another since Luke's mother had died, and that he _had_ in fact, over the course of his life, been trapped in cockpits with various parts of him being crushed for days on end.

"I would be being unreasonable, if that was the case."

"But you would still be doing it!"

Vader sighed and rubbed his son's hand gently. "Luke, we don't want your wound getting infected.

"It probably is by now anyway."

"We don't want the infection getting any _worse_."

"No."

"Allow me to get you medication."

"Why don't you ask Artoo to get the medication?" Luke suggested reasonably. "That way, we could have it, and you wouldn't have to leave my side."

Vader considered refusing, just to save face, but when he looked at his son's expression, his heart softened and he called for the little droid.

Artoo trundled in obediently, continuing his squeaks of concern for Luke's health and wellbeing.

"I'll be okay, Artoo," Luke assured the droid, trying to roll over to look at it.

Vader planted his hands firmly on his son's shoulders, preventing the boy from moving, so quickly that he hadn't even thought about it.

Luke rolled his eyes, and twisted his head to the side. "Can you get me some painkillers, please?"

The droid tootled and started out of the room.

"There's a med-droid in the basement, Artoo, please get him too." Vader added.

Artoo beeped again, and rolled out the door.

Vader turned back to his son to see the boy still looking after the droid. "I didn't know you had a med-droid."

"I didn't know you could understand Artoo," Vader countered.

"You can too, I heard you."

"It is an unusual ability."

Luke smiled, "Artoo's an unusual droid. If I had a normal astromech I wouldn't have bothered learning."

Vader smiled at his son, ignoring the pain it brought him. The boy smiled back up at him, apparently sensing the pride his father was feeling.

Artoo rolled back in, carrying a tray of painkillers in one claw, and leading the med-droid. Vader tried to move away from his son so the doctor could get to work, but Luke held his glove more tightly, and Vader gave up.

The med-droid too had carried medical supplies, and Vader watched with concern and then some amusement as they worked on his son's leg. The concern was only natural, considering their patient, but once Vader had assured himself that his son was accustomed to medical procedures and wouldn't try to get in the way, he found himself amused by Artoo's attempts at helping his master.

The little droid kept trying to apply bandages to some of Luke's lesser wounds with his claws, and the attempt was absolutely hopeless. Vader took some bandages from the droid and helped him.

When the med-droid was finally finished with Luke's leg, it joined the rest of them applying bandages, and finally took the remaining bandages and left, leaving them with the painkillers.

Luke had been silent for the whole procedure, and when Vader looked at his face, he found the boy to be half asleep.

"Wake up, Luke."

The boy yawned and blinked up at his father. "Mm?"

Vader offered him one of the painkillers, and Luke took it quietly. The second one, Luke shied away from, asking if he hadn't already had his dose.

"No, Luke. Trust me." Vader told him. Luke had, in fact, had his dose, but Vader had some experience with overdosing on painkillers, and his experience, verified by a doctor, was that having had too many of the particular brand he was giving Luke would cause only extreme drowsiness. Vader's reasoning was that having his son unconscious could only be easier to cope with than if the boy decided that he was feeling well enough to head back to the Alliance.

Once Luke had been coaxed into taking a few more of the pills, he was starting to drift off once more. Vader sat by his son's side until he was absolutely certain the boy was asleep, then got up and moved to get the boy something to eat for when he woke up.

When he returned to the child's room, he was still fast asleep. Vader looked down at the boy, placing the food on the bedside table, and decided that it was safe to get some work to do, and complete it in his sons' room.

As he worked, he couldn't help but marvel at how very natural it felt to have his son beside him. Not leading the Empire together, as he had imagined it would be, but just sleeping. Tired, and hurt after his most recent exploit, but safe in his father's home.

At last, the boy stirred. Vader considered nudging him back into unconsciousness, but decided against it. For now, his son seemed to trust him, and feel comfortable with him. If he tried to force the boy to do something like that, and failed, the trust would be broken. Instead he put down his work and moved to his son's side.

"How do you feel, child?" he asked.

Nestled in the bed before him, Luke yawned and rolled towards him.

"I'm okay."

"Good. I must go to the Emperor's palace on Coruscant for a day. I would feel safer knowing you stayed here, with Artoo to care for you."

Luke frowned slightly. "Why can't I come?"

"Being near the Emperor would be a hazard to your health, as you well know."

Luke sighed. "I don't want to be left alone."

"I know, child."

"I wish Han and Leia were here."

"I am, as usual, doing my best to capture the princess," Vader said.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"If I do succeed, I promise you I will bring her back here. The wookiee too, if you wish."

Luke gave his father a radiant smile, and nodded. "Yes, please."

"I will have someone retrieve Solo from Jabba as well. He may require some treatment; I do not know what Jabba has done to him."

"He's not dead. I can sense that."

"I know, child. I will arrange to collect him again now, if you will allow me to leave your side."

Luke looked hesitant, but he finally released his father's hand, allowing Vader to go make the arrangements.

When he returned to his son, the boy had pulled himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

"How long do they think it's going to take?"

"They said that, given my reputation, Jabba should be willing to allow me to buy Solo, especially if we offer to forget about a few crimes he's been caught in. It should take less than a day."

"Oh. Can you stay with me until then, please?"

"I suppose. But only if you promise to explain how you got yourself into this mess."

Luke blushed. "It was an accident."

"I would certainly hope so."

Luke's blush deepened, and Vader felt a bit ashamed of having responded like that. "It was a challenge. A really, really stupid challenge."

"What exactly was this challenge?" Vader prodded. "To see whether you would get the chance to be shot out of the sky by your own father?"

"Well, they don't know about that. And anyway, unless you have some kind of guard that I missed, that wouldn't explain what happened to my ship."

"True."

"The idea was to see how many necessary instruments we could fly without."

Vader was silently wishing that his son had just a little bit more of his mother's cautious nature.

"And, uh, I said that I thought I could fly in hyperspace without a navicomputer."

Vader was now cursing his own genetics.

"And, well, I managed it." The boy gave a sheepish smile.

"How did you end up on this planet, then?"

"Well, I'd already managed a couple of challenges, including one without landing gears, and another without repulsorlifts." Luke trailed off.

Vader was really, really wishing that his son had been a perfect clone of Padmé's personality.

"I probably could have done it!" Luke said defensively. "But then I sensed you, and I got distracted."

"Distracted?" Vader managed. "_Distracted?"_

Luke had the decency to look embarrassed. "Yeah."

"I can't _believe_ you did something that stupid! What were you thinking?"

Luke bristled, "Hey! Don't say you've never done anything stupid, because I won't believe you!"

Vader sighed. "You are too much like me for your own good, Luke."

To Vader's annoyance, Luke seemed to take it as a compliment.

"If your mother were here, she wouldn't have a reason not to lecture you about this."

He was expecting a retort along the lines of 'yeah, but she's not, is she?' but instead, Luke looked sad at the thought of that.

"Who was my mother?"

Vader felt his heart twist. "Her name was Padmé Amidala."

Luke nodded, and Vader was glad to see that the boy's curiosity had been sated enough to leave the painful topic alone.

"Go to sleep, Luke." Vader said finally.

Luke allowed himself to slip back into bed.

"Why do you have a room like this, Father?"

"I've arranged my home to fit your needs as well, Luke. I still haven't given up hope that you'll change your mind."

"I won't turn to the Dark Side. You know that."

"I still hope that you will want to stay with me enough."

Luke's expression became somewhat clouded with pain, and Vader wished he hadn't brought it up.

"But I do want to stay with you, Father. I really do."

"I know, son. I'm sorry I brought it up. Sleep now, we'll talk in the morning."

Luke nodded, and closed his eyes, nestling deeper in the pillow. Vader stroked his son's forehead in place of kissing him, and left the boy to sleep.


End file.
